Author's Note: Hi everyone! Welcome to my attempt at a Korrasami fic. ~(pls love me)~ Because I am a very productive human being, I decided to finally catch up and binge watch Book 2-4 of Legend of Korra. Korra and Asami's subtly developing relationship throughout those three seasons gave me inspiration to write this fic.

Bearing in mind how the Satomobile is a) integral to Asami's identity, and b) Team Avatar's main mode of transportation, I decided to make it the motif of this piece - more importantly, the increasing mileage of Asami's Satomobile as a measure of Korrasami's increasing development. (That sounded horribly academic and complicated and something I'd put in an essay's thesis statement, sorry.)

Basically, the more the Satomobile has travelled, the more experiences the two share, and the closer they get (0 miles = strangers, while 50000 miles = soulmates).

I apologize in advance - this chapter doesn't have Korra. She'll definitely appear in all the subsequent chapters, promise! It's just that this first one is quite necessary to drive the plot of the entire piece. Also, a big, big shout out to Watanabe Maya for being my beta for this chapter! Thanks for all your hard work, even if you're supposed to be on vacation right now.

Setting: This chapter is set on Asami's 18th birthday - so that's just a little bit before Book 1 started.

Disclaimer: All rights for Korra go to Bryke...this is my (sad) attempt to ride off their coattails. Please enjoy!

0 Miles

"You got a fast car,
I want a ticket to anywhere."

- Tracy Chapman

With scarlet lips painted the same shade as her sensual evening gown, Asami Sato embodies the high-society, classy woman she is expected to be. She holds an air of sophistication that belies her eighteen years, an innate elegance that so few are blessed with.

Yet earlier today in the Future Industries factory, her long dark tresses were held together in a messy bun; her pale, delicate cheeks were stained by dust and grease. And she doesn't mind it. Not one bit.

Asami loved cars.

And upon first glance, no one would've ever guessed. But perhaps her passion for mechanics comes from the fact that she's the daughter of Hiroshi Sato, the inventor of the Satomobile – the greatest success story Republic City has ever seen. But Asami knows it's more than just family legacy. To her cars aren't just glorified pieces of metal; with just a twist of a key, they take on a life of their own. Asami is captivated at the engine's faint rumble, how it grows into a thunderous roar as a Satomobile speeds down a highway. She is spellbound at how it obeys her every little command – a small push of a pedal sends the vehicle in motion, a slight tilt of the steering wheel lurches the car in an entirely new direction. But most of all, Asami is fascinated at how a messy heap of gears, joints and pipes move together in perfect synchronization, creating a creature that can travel faster and farther than any human ever could.

Asami's affinity for cars was probably the reason why she finds herself – of all places – walking towards her father's work garage, when she's supposed to be at the mansion, enjoying her eighteenth birthday. The garage was Asami's safe place, the musky scent of oil and rust instantly putting her at ease. This is where she'd go when she felt out of sorts.

Because truthfully, the garage – sweat and everything – is where Asami feels she's truly herself.

And tonight, she needed that comfort. Not that the party was bad, by any means. Her dad certainly spared no expense – an army of butlers, food from Kuang's, and a four-piece jazz band. Many of Asami's friends from school were invited, along with a slew of Republic City's elite: politicians, businessmen, and the press. And honestly, Asami was enjoying herself. She loved the buzzing atmosphere, flitting from table to table, meeting people both old and new. It wasn't until her father's business partners started bombarding her with questions that Asami started to feel a little overwhelmed.

"Now that you're eighteen, how much of a bigger role are you going to play in Future Industries?"

"With the expansion of Varrick Global Industries into the automobile industry, how do you plan on setting the newest line of Satomobiles apart?"

"How are you and your father planning to deal with the worker strikes in your downtown factory?"

Asami stood firm, and answered them with the poise and eloquence expected of Future Industries' heiress. She was neither surprised nor fazed by the press' onslaught of questions. Her father had informed her of their ruthlessness beforehand, and she had been trained with the finest of instructors throughout her many years of education, complete with thorough lectures and strict language training, all to prepare her for the blunt nature of the real world.

"It is my goal to be part of Future Industries' design and engineering team. The Satomobile has been integral to my father's success, and I'd love to be a part of its development.

"I honestly don't see the need to pit two of Republic City's most successful companies against each other. My father and Varrick are good friends with similar backstories – I think a partnership would be most beneficial.

"Future Industries is currently working out terms with the labor union leader. We hope to reach a compromise soon."

Yet suddenly, it all felt so real. Expectation was a boulder crushing her shoulders, her toes struggling to fit into shoes that were far too big for her size. She was the daughter of Hiroshi Sato, the heir of Future Industries – there was absolutely no room nor margin for error.

Nothing seemed more terrifying.

"I knew I'd find you here," a voice broke the silence, the monotony of shifting gears and droning engines. It was soft enough to maintain the calm, yet loud enough to interrupt her stream of thoughts.

"Dad."

Hiroshi Sato stood silently, the glow of their lighted mansion enveloping his entire silhouette. "Is everything alright?"

"It's fine," Asami answered, eyes downcast. "I just needed a little breather, but I'm okay now…we can go back."

"You're feeling a little overwhelmed, aren't you?" the older man prodded, hazel eyes brimming with concern. He reached out a hand and placed it comfortingly on his daughter's shoulder.

"Yeah, a bit," the raven-haired girl conceded, offering a tiny smile.

Hiroshi nodded in understanding; he knew how cutthroat his industry was. The competition, the expectations, the intense scrutiny – it takes a whole lot of guts to succeed in Republic City. And Asami was still young. He knew she was brilliant, talented, and everything in between – but she was only eighteen.

And she felt scared, just like he was at her age.

"Come here," Hiroshi suggested, "I have something that might make you feel better."

He began walking towards the back door of his work garage. Curious, Asami followed suit. Her father spent a great deal of his spare time at the garage, tinkering with spare parts and old engines.

Hiroshi unlocked the door and switched on the lights.

"Happy birthday, Asami."

The garage revealed a sleek, brand-new Satomobile. It was coated jet black, and embellished with deep red accented wheels – her two favorite colors. Unlike most Satomobiles, this one had no roof, exposing its passengers to the open air.

Asami stood in wonder, eyes transfixed at her father's gift.

"Th-this," she stuttered, unable to contain her excitement, "is for me?"

A wide grin was plastered all over her father's face. "Do you like it?"

She stepped closer to the brand new Satomobile, inspecting it with rapt attention. Two fingers carefully tiptoed over its red leather seats and shiny silver plating. The vehicle could sit four passengers – maybe five – and was quite spacious in its back row. It was equipped with a stick shift, mirrors and a fully functioning radio.

But upon opening the car's hood, the aspiring engineer learned that this Satomobile's appeal was not just in its appearance. Emerald irises twinkled as she was greeted by a heap of valves, levers, and gears - methodically snaking past each other to create an intricate metal labyrinth. She peered into each crack and crevice, marveling at the sheer detail of the vehicle's technological design.

V engine, Asami thought to herself, with one…two…three…eight cylinders.

Eight?

"Wait," the young woman sputtered, still reeling from shock, "no Satomobile has ever had a V8, right?"

Asami practically grew up in her father's office, poring over countless blueprints and design manuals. From Future Industries' pioneer model to its latest offering, she knew the entire Satomobile catalogue by heart. The aspiring engineer knew most Satomobiles only had four cylinders, and were usually arranged in an I-type formation. This V8 engine was a rarity, only found in racecars and prototypes; regarded as too expensive to be included in mass-produced Satomobiles.

Until now.

"Well, Future Industries has been researching the V8 for the past few years. We've been trying to figure out how to make the V8 compact enough, so that it could be integrated into our line of mass production." Hiroshi explained, pointing at the brand new vehicle in front of him. "And this is the result of those efforts."

"Amazing."

"The V8 engine means it has the power and acceleration of a racecar-"

"…while still having the maneuverability and control of a regular Satomobile!" Asami excitedly cut in, continuing her father's train of thought.

"Exactly."

"So that's why this Satomobile doesn't match up with any of the existing models," Asami concluded, her gaze still running over the vehicle in front of her.

"I guess you could say it's a 'limited edition'," the older man grinned. "One of a kind."

"What's the model called?"

Her father looked away sharply and cleared his throat. The smile drained away from his face, leaving behind a steely gaze and a taut frown.

"The Yasuko."

The mention of her mother's name triggered a flurry of memories – a soothing voice, a hearty laugh, and a gentle touch. Asami remembered sandcastles and sunshine, braids and balloons, fireworks and flowers. She pictured long, raven hair - much like her own – toying and swaying and dancing in the wind – only to be singed off at the brute hands of a ruthless firebender.

A heavy silence fell between the pair. Asami slowly shifted towards her father, gently wrapping her arm around his shoulder.

"You know," she said comfortingly, a wistful expression etched on her soft features, "Mom would've loved this car."

Hiroshi stared into the distance, eyes lost in a battle between nostalgia and regret. "Asami," he began, "do you know why I've kept my trusty blue Satomobile for the past 12 years, no matter how old it's starting to look?"

"Why exactly?" Asami figured her father's rusty, aging car had some sort of sentimental value.

"Because that's the car I used to pick your mother upwhen we had our first date. The car we rode in after we got married, the car we took everyday to work, the car we used for family vacations-" he rambled, his voice succumbing to a burst of cracks and croaks, "Yasuko and I had too many memories in that Satomobile. It might not look like much now, but that car reminds me of a time when I was happy. Truly, genuinely happy. So I've kept it with me, after all these years. Because whenever I look at it, I feel like Yasuko never really left my side."

A single tear started slinking its way down Hiroshi's cheek, only to be hastily wiped away by calloused fingertips.

Silence settled between the pair, only broken by waves of indistinct laughter coming from the party being held at the Sato mansion.

"I miss Mom," Asami admitted softly, voice clouded with emotion; nearly inaudible, almost whisper-like.

"Me too."

Hiroshi pulled his daughter into a soft embrace, a rare gesture for a man whose heart had been hardened by the pains loss.

"When I lost your mother, it was the darkest point in my life," he confessed hoarsely, "but no matter how bleak the past twelve years were, you have always managed to be that single, bright spot."

Pools of silver started forming amidst shining emerald orbs, threatening to cascade down pale, white skin. "D-dad, I-"

"Take this," Hiroshi said resolutely. He placed the car key for Asami's new Satomobile gently in his daughter's palm, giving her delicate hand a soft squeeze. "This is your very first Satomobile."

Asami stared right into her father eyes, her gaze steady and unwavering.

"Remember, it's so much more than just a car," he reminded her. "It is an extension of yourself, a part of your being. With every mile travelled, you will make thousands and thousands of memories. Like I did with your mother."

She nodded in understanding, clasping the keys close to her heart.

"Yes, Dad," Asami vowed solemnly. "I will."

Hiroshi smiled at his daughter, all pressed lips and no teeth, but it was probably the most genuine one he's ever shown in the past twelve years.

"Maybe," Asami suggested, excitedly walking over to the Satomobile's driver seat, "maybe I can make one right now."

"How so?"

"Let's go for a drive, Dad," she grinned, unable to contain her enthusiasm. "Just a quick one, around the estate, maybe near the harbor. Then we can go back to the party. Please?"

"But I'll drive," Hiroshi joked.

"No way. I'm driving."

The older man chuckled as he got into the passenger seat. "Well, kid, show me what you've got."

A tiny smirk formed on cherry lips.

"Watch me."

Author's Note: I felt the need to flesh out Asami and Hiroshi's relationship, seeing as it is such an essential part of Asami's arc. Hiroshi and Asami probably enjoyed a very close father-daughter relationship before...he joined the Equalists and attempted to kill her. Yes, there's no Korra yet...but this chapter was really just one of those necessary intro things. She's going to appear in the next one (1000 miles), and most likely in every single one after that, so stay tuned!

Oh, please leave a review, a favorite, anything - it would make my day! :)

- WHADDAPACK